


Of unusual measures and contrast

by FancifulFancy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A young kid getting his first wand, Gen, HEAVILY influenced by my roleplay of Graham, Ollivander - Freeform, Other, graham montague - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:30:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulFancy/pseuds/FancifulFancy
Summary: Graham Montague is a slytherin canon character, that I have adopted in my roleplay, so to speak. He has become my baby, and I do not expect anyone to shower him in love an attention as I do. So I made him a bunch of drabbles and one-shots to flesh his past and character out more.





	Of unusual measures and contrast

The two of them were standing outside a typical British storefront from the early 1900’s. The build clearly made sometime in the Victorian era, with black frames on the windows and frames. The large windows displayed a wide selection of wands. Graham tip-toed to peer in further and saw shelves stacked with small boxes. All seemingly the same size and rather compact.

“- ‘er vee are…” his uncle Leopold chimed. His uncle, a somewhat rotund man with dark hair and a penchant for gaudy accessories, nudged him up the stairs. Graham nearly tripped on the first step but caught himself. Clutching his new schoolbooks to his chest, he stepped up the remainder steps with some hesitation.

His uncle opened the door for him, watching his nephew tense up. Leopold let out a sigh and in an attempt to calm Graham’s nerves, gently patted his shoulder.

“-Eet veel bee fine..” he strung out nasally “Monsieur Oleevander eez a gud man.”

Graham briefly exchanged looks with his uncle, and felt re-assured enough to finally step inside the cramped wand-shop. The place smelled like parchment, dust and some sort of cleansing agent of some sort.  The shelves were stacked to the ceilings with countless boxes, some wands were displayed in baskets. It was equally as amazing, as it was slightly mad.

 

To the left corner of the room was a Lady dressed in a bright purple gown, her hair tied into a tight bun much like his mother’s. She had a long, flowing lime-green cape in silk, and appeared to be of the prim and proper sort. Her daughter was trying wands. Flicking one, and nothing happened. Graham knew it was rude to stare but he couldn’t help himself. It was all rather fantastical and out of this world. Well his world. The one he grew up in. The one with cars, video games, and boomboxes. All of it was giving way for moving photographs, talking paintings, and magic.

Leopold gave him a cheerful and re-assuring pat on the shoulder, making him jump a little, clutching the books even closer to his chest.

“You steey ‘ere, eei weel talk to Monsieur Ollivandeer” he drawled. His chubby hands correcting the lapel of his suit, as he hurried over. Leaving Graham there to himself. A small boy a bit scared of touching anything and everything.

Leopold had wandered up to the other group and started a conversation. Meanwhile, Graham was looking around. There were a couple of owls peering down at him from an available spot in the upper shelves. Hooting and tiling their heads at him. A part of him felt a bit judges by them. It seemed likes owls were plentiful there, he had seen an owl shop on his way there. The windows displaying the beautiful birds, describing their names and species.

It was taking too long for an 11-year-old to wait, and curiosity got the best of him quickly. He wandered over to a wall of wands, simply trying to read the labels. They were old, dusty, and hand-written. Just as he reached out to pick a loose wand from one of the boxes, he was stopped.

“-A’a’aaa…that one is not for you I am afraid.” Turning he saw a much taller man, Leopold standing right beside him. His hair was messy and grey, sort of big. Going to every direction. The eyes that stared back at him reminded him of silver. Pale as the stars. It was something about them he felt drilled right through his very core.  The young man pulled his hand back quickly and gave him an insecure smile.

“-Put those books down young man, I will need some measurements. Graham Montague was it?”

Graham nodded quietly, noting that the woman who was on her way out with her daughter, seemed to perk up at the name, giving them a look before disappearing out the door with the girl.

From nowhere a flying measuring-tape, and a few measuring tools came to sight, and he was asked to hold his hand out. Which he did. At one point, he nearly fell backwards into a chair because the measuring tape wanted to measure the distance between his eyes.  Luckily, he managed to catch himself on the armrest of a chair.

“Montague, Montague, and old name that. French of origin too….” Ollivander tapped his chin, smiling at him. “You know, wands choose their owner, you do not choose the wand. If you try using one that’s not yours, it may even backfire, or, simply not work….”

With great energy and surprising speed, the older wizard climbed a ladder and pulled out a box from the upper shelf. Pulling out a box, taking a deep breath, he blew a thick layer of dust off it. Creating a small cloud that lingered above them. Much to Graham’s surprise.

“-Give it a wave. Rowan, 13 inches, its core. unicorn-hair.”

Graham was clutching onto the wand like a 5-year-old held onto a crayon. Glancing to his uncle Leopold, who with rosy cheeks tried to nod in encouragement, and Ollivander who was waiting curiously. Staring at him much like those owls. Even the uneven blink.

With a nervous stiff flick in the direction of the counter, and within a second the chair behind it was flung up into the ceiling.

“- Not it then, no….” Ollivander trailed off as Graham fearfully put the wand down on a small round wooden table.  Before he had turned to ask a question, he saw Ollivander already digging through a basket of wands, before taking one out, holding it up as If he had just located a treasure. With a big grin and confidence, he handed it to him.

“-Well… ? Don’t hesitate young Mr. Montague. “

Staring wide-eyed at this odd hyper man, he waved the wand a little to the right side. It was followed by the noise of an annoyed owl. Turning to face the disgruntled bird, it had turned 3 times its size, and was now stuck in one of the weaved wand baskets.

Not good.

He mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to the owl, who instantly put its beak in the air. That drew Ollivander’s attention. Not so much Graham’s action, but the birds re-action.

“-Interesting….” Ollivander muttered. “Very interesting, quite odd but….interesting.” With a squint of his eyes, he wandered over to a shelf. “A…A…Apple…there we go. Apple, unicorn hair, 12 inches.”

 

Turning to face Graham, he once more handed him the wand. Another one for him to try, and it went a little less terrible than the first two times, but it still wasn’t great. He did crack a window, but at least it didn’t break.

Graham didn’t even manage to put it down, before he yanked it out of his hand and replaced it with another one. “You are turning out to be a little bit of an odd one Mr. Montague… Phoenix-core” this statement made Leopold’s brows rise a little in curiosity. Though before he could speak or ask, Graham had flicked the wand and rattled the chandelier, and made a candle fall down on his uncle’s head.

This made Ollivander’s brows furrow, he took the wand back with a gentle yank, and ventured to a small cramped hallway that was somewhere behind the counter. Graham trotted after, looking ever bit as nervous. Ollivander was talking to himself, and throwing looks to Graham. He repeated this action at least 3 times as he held a box in his hands.

“-This is an old wand Graham” his voice had gone from friendly to excited to a bit more solemn and calm. “My father created it in his later years. One of the last projects he did. It’s a very unusual wand, I think…..you should try it.”

Placing the wooden box out in front of him, he gently tipped open the lid and in a red velvety interior, laid a dark wooded wand, with beautiful detailing. It was an intricated organic pattern that stretched from a solid looking handle to the middle of the wand.

Taking a deep breath, Graham reached out for the wand. Halting for a second or two. Something felt different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was a warm feeling. The feeling you have when you meet an old friend. A friend you haven’t seen in years. Drawing courage, he took a hold of it. His grip gentler, and styled than before. Perhaps he was getting a hold of it now. Graham’s eyes stared at it with a doe-like quality in them. Innocence, and hope combined.

Without any encouragement he flicked the wand, and items started to levitate around them. Nothing broke, and the sensation of a friend, seemed to even enhance further.

Ollivander still looked a bit puzzled, yet fascinated. Leopold was waiting by the counter alongside Graham, and seemed quite happy that his nephew had found his wand.

“-How much?” he asked, digging into his suit jacket for his wallet.

“-11 galleons…”

That seemed to throw his uncle for a loop. Seeming quite surprised by the high price, Leopold found himself asking why.

“Applewood.” Ollivander stated calmly. “Applewood.”

 

His uncle didn’t argue any further and simply paid the man. Then Leopold headed back outside, asking Graham to follow him once he packed up his wand and books. And he was, packing it into the box which it came when Ollivander leaned a little closer to him over the counter. Looming over him with a very serious look in his eyes.

“…That wand, is a most unusual wand Graham. Applewood wands do not come by often, and even if sought after and often reflect the owner’s great personal charm and wit. It does not mix well with the dark arts….”

He paused as he noticed Graham’s frozen look.

“-However yours, is a wand of contrast. I do not expect you to fully comprehend at your age. The core of your wand, is Dragon heartstring, more precisely dragon-heartstring from an Ukrainian Ironbelly. They carry immense power, but they are the cores most easily persuaded into the dark arts…Combined with its rigid flexibility, I fear you will have a narrow and challenging path to walk Graham. But I think you can do it.”

It sounded, like doing magic might become difficult, and this worried Graham. All he wanted was to do well.  Looking a bit frightened and scared, he just nodded really quickly.

“-Thank you Mr. Ollivander.”

“Are yee coming Graham!” Leopold shouted, and Graham offered the king wandmaker a nod just as he headed out the door. It was as if he had been addressed with warning of some sort, but he didn’t know what to make off it.

All to soon it was merely words lingering in the back of his head, as they continued towards the tailoring shop to get him his uniforms. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
